Not The Important One
by Lee Davies
Summary: Instead of Peeta Mellark going into the area with Katniss, his adopted older brother Martin Crieff-Mellark volunteers as tribute. (Cabin Pressure/Hunger Games cross over)
1. Chapter 1

It was the morning of the reaping and Martin Mellark was nervous as he was every year. Technically, he had been born Martin Crieff, but his father had been killed in a mine accident and his mother died of illness two years later. Martin could not fend for himself and after getting special permission from the local Peacekeepers, the Mellark family took him in.

He was expected to work hard, but he didn't mind. He was willing to do whatever needed doing and did so with a cheerful air. The older boys hadn't looked on him very kindly when he had been brought home, but little Peeta was delighted to have a brother closer to his own age. The two were close and it was for his brother that he was most concerned. Not for himself.

"Are you boys ready?" their mother called and Martin smoothed his unruly hair down one last time, not that it was going to help too much. "Yes." he called back as he gently shoved Peeta out the door of the room that they shared.

Breakfast was eaten in relative silence, no one in the mood for jokes or stories. It was too sober a day, since two young people from their district would be chosen and would most likely never come back again.

As they made their way to the holding area, their parents and brothers melted away, leaving Peeta and Martin standing together. "I'm nervous, Marty." Peeta whispered.

"Don't worry." Martin whispered back. "I won't let anything happen to you." He had always looked out for Peeta, made sure he was all right and happy. His younger brother was a kind soul, and very artistic. He decorated all of the cakes in the windows at the bakery that their family owned.

Smiling weakly, Peeta looked up at the screen as Effie Trinket (looking ridiculous as usual) came trotting out and the video was played as it always was before the two tributes were selected. The girl tribute this year was Katniss Everdeen and Martin bit his lip. He knew that Peeta had liked her for years and if she died…well, he didn't want to think about that. Katniss was an accomplished hunter though. Their father would only buy squirrels from her because she hit them in the eye every single time. Perhaps there was some hope for her.

"And now for the boys." Effie cooed and Martin tried to breathe calmly as she withdrew a piece of paper. These were the last games he would be elligible for. He was 18 and after today, he would be an adult, no longer a part of the pool of potential tributes. His hands curled into fists at his sides as he waited to hear who it was going to be. "Peeta Mellark."

Gasps came from around them and Peeta blinked a few times before beginning to move sluggishly toward the stairs to reach the podium. He was trying to hold himself upright and proud.

Before he could even think about what he was doing, Martin was racing after Peeta. Some of the Peacekeepers grabbed a hold of him and were trying to restrain him until he shouted the fateful words. "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

Peeta stared at him in horror as Martin was released and instead, guided toward the steps. "Martin no!" Peeta cried as one of their old friends, Douglas came forward and tugged Peeta back into the waiting crowd of boys from their district. Ignoring his brother's cries, Martin mounted the steps and crossed to where Effie was motioning him to come.

A curious numb feeling had taken over. Nothing seemed to be truly real. He was going to wake up and this was all going to be a ridiculous dream that he and Peeta would laugh about in the bakery in the morning. But as soon as Effie moved the microphone and it threw up a bit of feedback, he knew it was all too real.

"What is your name?" Effie asked conversationally and Martin had to remember to answer her.

"Martin Mellark." he replied, his deep voice carrying even without a microphone.

"Ahhh, so is Peeta your brother?"

"Yes." Martin answered, his eyes seeking out and finding his brother. "Younger."

"Can't let the small ones show you up!" Effie trilled and it was all Martin could do not to give her a look of disgust but he caught himself. The Capitol was watching everything.

"Shake hands, you two." Effie told him and Katniss. Turning slightly, Martin extended his hand to her and she shook it firmly. Her hands were just as rough as his own were and he wondered what she did besides hunting.

But there was no time to wonder right now. They were being hustled into the Hall of Justice, to await a visit from their families and Martin wondered what his parents would say when they arrived. All he could do now was wait…


	2. Chapter 2

Martin sat silently in the small room that he had been locked into, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. He supposed that tributes who had been reaped must have tried to run before and he couldn't say that he blamed them. If he thought he stood a chance, he would run like the wind.

But he didn't, so here he was, completely at the mercy of the Capitol. He hated it, hated them for doing this to the districts every year. This was the way things were though. He couldn't change them. The numb feeling was starting to wear off, leaving behind both panic, and resignation. There was nothing for it now. He had made his choice and he was going to have to see it through to the end.

He was so caught up in his thought that he was a bit startled when the door swung open and his family bustled through. "Five minutes." the guard told them sternly and Martin's stomach dropped. That wasn't enough time to say a good and proper farewell. His mother immediately hugged him and he was surprised. She wasn't an overly affectionate woman, more prone to yelling and giving someone a bit of a smack when things weren't done right but when she pulled back, he could see a fierce pride in her face. He could tell that she knew he had acted to save Peeta and if nothing else, she would love him for that alone.

His father's hug was awkward, as were the ones from his older brothers, but Peeta clung to him as though he was life itself. "Why did you do that, Martin?" Peeta whispered as the new tribute returned his brother's embrace. "Why did you volunteer?"

"You're my brother, Peeta." Martin said softly. "And the bakery needs you. Can you imagine if _I_ was put in charge of decorating the cakes?" It was a running joke in their family and even though they only laughed for a few seconds, this was the mental image of his family that he wanted to carry with him into the arena. The image of them laughing at something silly he'd said.

The door began to swing open agaon and Martin let go of Peeta as the Peacekeeper hustled his family out of the room. "I love you Martin!" Peeta called and the door swung shut again.

Sighing, Martin swallowed. "I love you too, little brother." he whispered. He was about to return to his chair when the door opened again and his two best friends, Douglas and Arthur came in. They both hugged Martin wordlessly and stared at him until he joked wryly, "I never thought I'd see you without words, Douglas." His friend was always the one with the jokes or witty comments.

Both Douglas and Arthur laughed a bit, but it sounded forced. "Martin…I…" Douglas trailed off, not sure of what he should say.

"Take care of Peeta." Martin said, deciding to use what little time they had left instead of sitting in silence. He clapped his dearest friend on the shoulder, remembering some of the trouble they had gotten into together, just the two of then and also with Arthur in tow. "Both of you. Make sure people aren't too hard on him."

"We will." Arthur promised, his lower lip wobbling a bit.

"We will." Douglas repeated, giving Martin a weak punch to the arm.

Nodding, Martin hugged them both one last time before the door opened and his friends were taken away as well. He paced the room several times before Effie came to collect him and Katniss in order to take them to the special tribute train that they would be travelling on to the Capitol.

Katniss was rather quiet and Martin couldn't say that he blamed her. His own mind was whirling and trying to accept that he had essentially volunteered to go to the Capitol and die.

But it was for Peeta. How could he stand by and _not_ save his brother? Effie was prattling on about eating something and getting some rest for the "big, big, big day" tomorrow. They were on a train. How big of a day could it really be?

He washed his face and hands in a small sink, marveling at the fact that this train had running water before his face grew sour. _All_ of the districts should have this capability. Not just the Capitol.

Martin met Effie and Katniss outside his door so she could guide them down the hallway to the dining car. As they walked, Katniss murmured quietly, "That was brave, what you did for Peeta."

"I don't _feel_ very brave." Martin said wryly and this won him a small smile from his fellow tribute.

"Still. Not everyone would volunteer. Even for family." she said and he knew it was true. He very much doubted the older two Mellark boys would have offered to go into the arena, even if they had been of age.

"When I was adopted, Peeta was the only one who treated me like a brother and not an interloper." Martin said softly, rather surprised that he was even telling her all of this stuff. "I'm not really a Mellark, but that never mattered to him. I was his new brother and that was it as far as he was concerned. Besides, if I die, my family loses a pair of strong arms to haul flour. If Peeta died…they'd lose the person who makes the cakes. I'm not the important one. He is."

It stung to admit it, but it was true. He was not the important one in the Mellark family.

"I think you're important, Martin." Katniss said after a moment, her grey eyes considering him. "Maybe even more than you know."

As they entered the dining car finally and saw a very drunk Haymitch Abernathy waiting for them, Martin had to admit that, after meeting a very nice and pretty girl that may or may not be killing him in the next week, the odds were _not _in his favor.

"Happy Hunger Games." he muttered to himself as he took a seat at the heavy wooden table. This was going to be a long week.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner was rather tense, with Effie casting disapproving glares at Haymitch, who wasn't even bothering to try and hide how much he was drinking. Katniss was somewhat amused when their mentor stumbled off to get some more whiskey, but any traces of humor were removed with Effie's next words.

"So this is funny to you, is it? Haymitch is the one responsible for getting the two of you sponsors once the games begin."

Martin stared down at his plate, his stomach roiling as he set his fork down slowly. Their fate was in the hands of a man who was too drunk to walk upright and he was suddenly mad. Mad that Haymitch couldn't be bothered to dry out long enough to start offering them some advice. Mad that these "games" were even happening at all.

"I'm not as hungry as I thought I was." he said, forcing a smile as he got to his feet. Something needed to be done because even if _he_ couldn't win the games, he wasn't about to let some drunk old man take away a chance from Katniss. With the right sponsors, Martin was pretty sure she'd at least make a good showing if not win the games outright. He nodded his head briskly to Effie and Katniss before taking off in the direction he'd seen Haymitch go and he didn't have to go far to find him. The older man was slumped against the wall, reeking of alcohol and vomit.

There was something rather sad about the scene and he had never considered that this was how Haymitch lived from day to day. Still, he was determined to get his wishes across to the inebriated man. Wrinkling his nose as he came closer, Martin got a hand under his arm and hauled Haymitch along to one of the bathing areas. Not even bothering to try and get the soiled clothes off of his "mentor", Martin smiled almost grimly as he left Haymitch sprawled in the bottom of the tub. He turned the water on full blast and as cold as he could make it.

A few moments passed before Haymitch began to move, mumbling something about holes in the roof before he realized what was happening. Sitting up slowly and swearing loudly, he threatened Martin with all manner of unlikely things and the young tribute waited, knowing that Haymitch couldn't keep going forever.

When he'd finally stopped, Martin switched the water off with an absurd little "click". Haymitch was looking at him, red rimmed eyes suspicious. "What do you want, kid?" he asked finally.

"I think we both know I'm not going to win this." Martin replied calmly, arms folded over his chest.

Haymitch snorted and nodded his agreement. "At least you're honest."

"Katniss can, though." Martin went on and leaned in to emphasize his point to Haymitch. "And by hell, your drunk ass is going to make sure that she does."

A mulish look emerged on Haymitch's face, but Martin held up a finger before his mentor could get riled up again. "I will pour out every drop of alcohol on this train if I have to. And I know Effie would help me. So it's time to sober up, Abernathy."

"What's it to you if she wins or not, Mellark?" Haymitch replied almost mockingly. "She may kill you in the arena."

"I knew I was signing up to die when I took my brother's place." Martin said tightly. "My reasons are my own, Haymitch. Just get it together."

Leaving an unusually thoughtful Haymitch behind him, Martin stalked through the train to his own room. It looked like some of their things had been collected from their houses and he smiled a bit to see his wood carving knives. Peeta must have helped pack, since he was one of the only ones apart from Douglas or Arthur who knew where he kept his supplies.

He picked up one of the small knives in his hand, smoothing it over the wood several times until the shape of a person began to emerge. He couldn't decorate cakes the way Peeta would because icing wasn't the right medium for him. But wood was.

Martin carefully blew little bits of wood shavings away and took up his smallest knife for fine detail work. Eyes, a nose and a mouth began to take shape under his skilled fingers. Long hair held back in a braid was next and the figure had a bow over its back.

Once it was finished, Martin made sure it was smooth before looking it over properly. A miniature Katniss Everdeen stared up at him before he got to his feet. Her room was across the hall from his own and he set the figurine on the ground before tapping lightly on the door and retreating. He hoped that she would like it, but Martin was always uncomfortable watching the reactions of others to his work.

A few moments passed before he heard a faint scratching noise. Puzzled, he ventured over and found a slip of paper wedged under the door. All it said was "Thank you", but it made Martin smile. Perhaps, if she won, she would remember the red headed tribute who made it for her in years to come. His carvings were the only things of himself he was going to have enough time to leave behind.


	4. Chapter 4

Martin was awoken by the sound of Effie's disgustingly cheery voice calling for him to get up. They'd be arriving in the Capitol today and as he sat down at the table with Effie, Haymitch and Katniss to have some breakfast, he wondered what was going to happen to him from here. He wasn't wildly handsome or particularly talented at anything except his wood carvings. He'd be dead in 10 minutes.

But maybe it was for the best if he died quickly. That way, it wouldn't be drawn out for Peeta. He wouldn't have to sit and watch for however long the Games took to see what would happen to his brother.

As he picked at his roll that seemed to taste more like sawdust to him than bread, Effie informed him that he and Katniss would be meeting their stylists today and he wanted to groan. He hated wearing anything formal and his floppy ginger hair never wanted to cooperate. His stylist was going to take one look at him and run away screaming.

Rising to his feet for something to do, Martin walked over to the window, watching the scenery flash by him. He wanted to take as much in as he could before the end.

Suddenly, everything went dark and he took a surprised step back from the window. Effie and Haymitch didn't seem at all surprised and it made his wonder. Were they underground? Had something happened? Before he could ask either of them, they emerged in some kind of place that was reminiscent of the Hob back home in District 12. People were clustered tightly into the small space, obviously trying to catch a glimpse of the incoming tributes.

Several people started to point at him and he couldn't help the faint flush that stained his cheeks as he offered a shy little wave. All at once, the crowd seemed to fixate on him and he waved until his arm felt like it was going to fall off. Yes, he wasn't confident about his chances in the arena, but that didn't mean he was going to shoot himself in the foot either. He could wave at a few people and perhaps once the games began in earnest, someone would feel kindly toward him.

Scolding him lightly (even though she really didn't seem too angry), Effie came and took him away, leading him to a strange building where a team of three people from the capitol stripped him down, and seemed to sand his skin off. He was embarrassed to be naked in from of these strangers, but he offered no protests, and they seemed to appreciate him letting them get on with things. Once they had wrapped him up in a robe and pronounced him to be completely "finished", they brought in Portia.

Martin was expecting someone who looked very altered like the prep team, but Portia only wore makeup sparingly. She used it to great effect however and it took Martin a couple of tries to untie his tongue long enough to tell her his name.

"It's good to meet you, Martin. My name is Portia, and my associate Cinna and I are responsible for dressing you and Katniss for the opening ceremony tonight."

He nodded, wondering if they were going to haul out the mining helmets and put black makeup on their faces to make it look like coal. The idea was to dress the tributes in something that would reflect the culture of their particular district, and District 12's costumes were usually pretty awful.

"Cinna and I wanted to take a new approach, so there will be no coal miner outfits this year." Portia informed him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, as if she could guess what was going through Martin's mind.

"Oh?" Martin asked.

"We feel that it's been done to death and we'd like to make you and Katniss stand out." She rose and circled around him. Martin couldn't help feeling like a mouse being stared down by a cat and swallowed reflexively.

"You've got some lovely wave to your hair. If it was shorter, it would be easier to work with. Do you mind if I trim it?"

She thought he had nice hair? The Capitol must be a strange place indeed. But he didn't care if she cut it. He'd just be dead in a few days anyway. "I don't mind." he replied.

Nodding, Portia advanced on him with a pair of very sharp looking scissors and Martin wondered if it was too late to change his mind before the first few pieces of hair began to fall on the ground. He shut his eyes until she was finished and looked into the mirror she held in front of him so he could see what she had done.

His hair was cropped rather close to his head, placing the emphasis on the wave itself and not so much the color. He was surprised to find that he liked it, and it wasn't so drastic that it wasn't him.

"Thank you." he said honestly and Portia nodded in satisfaction as she began to bring out the pieces of his costume. As he tugged on the black unitard and the boots, he stopped as Portia came back with something that looked like a fire starter.

"What's that for?" he asked curiously.

"Your flames."

He had been right. The Capitol was a strange place.


End file.
